


Ex Parte

by ifnotfornatasha



Series: Jurisprudence [1]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Amy Santiago Loves Jake Peralta, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxious Amy Santiago, Break Up, F/M, Hurt Jake Peralta, Hurt No Comfort, Jake Peralta Needs a Hug, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 11:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16062269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifnotfornatasha/pseuds/ifnotfornatasha
Summary: Going undercover requires sacrifices.Aka, Jake never goes to jail. Instead, during that same time period, Amy has to take on an important assignment that requires her to let go of everything concerning her previous life.//Previously named Justice System.





	Ex Parte

Amy can tell Jake is in a good mood.

Usually, this would be a good thing. He's making her dinner, she can smell it through their door, and he's singing Style, badly and off-key; the only way he knows how. She finds herself smiling, softly.

On another day, maybe she'd tell him to stop making her ears bleed with his music choices and singing, before joining in and enthusiastically belting out alongside him. Maybe she'd try to give him pointers on his cooking. He'd either scrunch up his nose and wonder why she would ever think that whatever she said was a good idea. Or maybe he'd entertain her ideas, only for both of them to later regret it all later as they try to finish the meal. They'd probably argue over what movie to watch that night, Jake wanting to watch Die Hard, Amy wanting to watch literally anything else. Maybe they'd forget the movie entirely and just, well,  _boink_. Then she'd cuddle Jake and they'd fall asleep together, ready to start another day.

Today would not be that day. Today, Amy would make the worst decision of her life; the last decision of _this_ life.

Amy found herself taking in every part of their _door_ , for christ's sake, already missing it before she'd even gone. The Bruce Willis that Jake had drawn, in Sharpie, that was mostly just a smiley face and a circle. She'd gotten mad at him at the time, but now she found herself lovingly tracing it's form.

This was who she chose to love.

~~This was who she wanted to marry.~~

Now was  _not_ the time to think of stuff like that.

Amy inhaled through her nose. 1, 2, 3, 4.

Held. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7.

Exhaled through her mouth. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.

Waiting any longer would mean that she wouldn't get to see him again at all. So, miserably, she puts her key in the knob and turns it, opening the door.

Jake turns down Wildest Dreams, but he chooses to shout anyway, continuing to dance as he makes her spaghetti.

"Good evening, my love!" he says loudly, with a goofy smile on his face and a very, very wrong salute that mostly just transfers the sauce from his hand onto his forehead. Why did she have to fall for a guy like him? A perfectly sweet, wonderful, quirky, literal sunshine. She tried thinking of everything annoying that Jake did. If only Amy didn't find so many of Jake's annoying habits endearing.

Well, actually, she didn't, but he could do anything at that moment and she wouldn't complain. Couldn't complain.

"Amy?"

She realizes she's been wistfully staring at his face. He's concerned, she realizes. He's still dancing, because Taylor Swift, _duh_ , but his face is twisted into a confused expression. She can see him chewing on his lip, a nervous habit. Usually, she would tell him to stop, but she can't bring herself to care. Her chest aches, longing for a smoke.

Jake is still looking at her, dancing slowing to a stop.

At first, she's still smiling.

"Babe, you okay?"

That's all it takes before she's crying. And on the floor.

In a second, Jake is by her side, forgetting dinner. The room is near-silent, the only sounds being Amy's sobs, Jake's comforts and burning noodles.

Amy feels his warmth, the way he's soothing her as she wets his plaid shirt with her tears. She can feel his arms engulfing her, his soft lips on her forehead, the hand on her back, writing words with it's fingertips.

"Ames, Amy," Jake is pleading, "C'mon, _breathe_."

She then realizes she isn't doing that. _Oh god_. She's not breathing. She's panicked so many times before and yet _every time_ she _still_ thinks she that she might die.

Because what if she doesn't get so lucky like she did all those times before? And then she dies? Suffocates? Oh god, she wouldn't ever get to marry Jake.

Fuck! She isn't going to get to anyway because life _sucks_.

"Amy. _Amy_ ," Jake is saying. He sounds terrified. God, poor Jake. "Ames, c'mon, breathe."

She just sobs harder. Why did she have to get stuck with the most loving, patient boyfriend in the world?

"I'm–" she gasps for breath, unable to get through a single word. She's choking on air. She's _choking_ on _air_.

"Breathe," he whispers into her ear, his own voice shaking. "Ames, breathe for me."

She tries, she really does, but the adrenaline running through her just keeps spiking, because when she calms down she'll have to do it, she'll have to say those five words and Jake– oh god, Jake is going to be crushed. The world hates her. The world hates _them_ and they just want to be happy, but they keep being torn apart. Maybe this time for good.

"Shhh," Jake hushes, playing with her hair. His grip is just a little bit too tight, his movements just a tad too choppy. Her head is resting on his chest and she can hear his heartbeat. It's not a soothing presence; it's wild and erratic. It's not that far off from her own.

She breaks out of his comforting grasp and away from the panicked  _ba-dum ba-dum_ of his heart. As she pushes herself away from Jake, she finds herself immediately regretting losing his warmth. He looks confused and scared, his stare full of a million questions. She's the source of his despair; will be the source of even more despair.

"Ames?"

She hugs her own arms around herself, suddenly freezing. Their eyes are locked on each others, terror into terror. Amy whimpers through her gasps. For once, she hates how comfortable she feels being vulnerable around Jake. She hates how much she loves him.

And yet, he is the reason she calms. Her eyes looking into his. Feeling his gaze, so impossibly full of love. Miraculously, she doesn't feel like she's dying anymore. However, she does feel like she's falling about a million feet, wildly flailing for anything, anything to catch her before she hits the ground but everything around her is poison. The one thing _(person)_ she needs to survive this fall is the one she can't have.

She wants to tell him everything.

Jake cautiously crawls towards her. Amy feels her lips quivering, sees Jake's lips bleeding, just a little, bite marks evident.

He doesn't deserve this.

For a while, they just sit next to each other. Next to, not together, because Jake's limbs are staying glued to his sides, though he looks longingly at her, like he wants to touch her as much as she wants to touch him.

"Amy," Jake says, looking straight at her, "What's wrong?"

Fuck.

Fuck her life.

She feels a lump in her throat. She lets out another sob. It's not fair to him, she knows it isn't, but she needs to feel him. She leans her head into the crook of his neck. She lets herself hold onto him this one last time and it's not fair. It's not fair that she's going to do this to him and it's not fair that she has to.

"Amy," Jake says, lifting her head up with two fingers on her chin. He gives her a small smile. "You can tell me anything."

Amy takes a deep breath. She can do this.

While she steadily ignores his empty fingers, she looks longingly into his eyes, wanting to memorize every part of his face but too afraid to get any more attached.

She's torn between wanting to remember him forever and wanting to forget him as if she'd never even known him.

Amy takes a deep breath and tries her best not to cry.

As gently as she possibly can, she mournfully says the words that she's been dreading. They come out breathy and high.

"I'm breaking up with you."

Her hand around his wrist, she feels his heart stop. Jake's face goes through all seven stages of grief at once. His hand goes to brush against her shoulder, instinctively, but a moment later he pulls away like he's been burnt. She deserves that.

"Amy?" he asks, in a disbelieving tone.

"I'm breaking up with you." Amy reaffirms, not at all more confident but she feels a hell of a lot more numb.

"You're joking." he says, denying her statement but not quite believing himself either. He laughs a little, but it falls flat. He gapes like a fish for a moment, trying to find the right words. He presses his lips together. "... Right?"

Amy stays silent. Jake takes that as a no.

"No. No, no, no, Ames–" he laughs nervously, crying and nearing hysterical, "–I love you, god, I love you. _Amy_."

He says her name like a broken vow.

Amy doesn't trust herself to say another word. They both sit across from each other, breathless and _so_ not in a good way.

She's reminded again of the night they could have had. The night they should have had. The night they might never have again.

"Ames, please, what did I do wrong? I'll do anything, I swear," he begs, frantically, "I'll wash the dishes for a month, I'll do your laundry, I'll google how to do laundry the right way so that I don't mess up your color coordinated suits again, I'll make you breakfast in bed for the rest of the year, _fuck_ , Amy, I'll stop watching _Die Hard_ for you."

Amy gives him a faint, watery smile. There was no time to dwell on how in love Jake was with her. Or how in love she was with him.

"I'm sorry."

"Amy, _please_." he implored.

"I can't, Jake, I'm sorry."

She leaves him on the floor before either of them can get another word in. She hates herself, but there are hundreds, possibly thousands of people counting on her. This mission is important, too important for her to be selfish.

She leaves behind her boyfriend and his (not their) burnt dinner, twisting her ringless hands together as she goes.

"I love you." she says, to no one at all.

**Author's Note:**

> angst angst angst angst
> 
> i literally have so much b99 angst half-written so like,, look forward to more tears?? i don't wanna say hopefully but also if i did make you cry then i'm sorry but also kind of proud of myself... sorry.
> 
> old username: mostlyforattention  
> find me on tumblr! @motherbucker


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